Shadows of the Past, Hope for the Future
by Starlight10
Summary: Young Estel learns a few things about himself, trust and the love of brothers from Elladan and Elrohir.
1. Default Chapter

1. Darkness, Doubt and Shadows 

Mist gathered around him, clouding his vision as he struggled to run in spite of the bushes and branches that barred his way. Night had not entirely fallen, but the world was already dark, and the thick fog made it difficult for him to see, much though he tried. He had not the elven eyesight of his brothers, and at times like these he regretted it the most. Yet he kept running, for to stop was to die and he would not die now, not at the hands of such loathsome creatures! Estel tried to focus his senses to lead himself through the dark. He knew his brothers ran in front of him but could not hear them, except for the occasional careless, or perhaps purposeful, snapping of a twig. The growls that came from behind his trail were becoming louder, and he knew he had to run.  
  
_Fear not the shadows, little one;  
No beast will harm you in the dark.  
Look up toward the starlight  
to see Hope shining bright._  
  
"Hurry, Estel!" He heard a voice calling him, though faintly, for the pounding of his chest was louder. He ran onward, every stride pushing him further, every muscle of his body working to get him away from danger. He felt he had to breathe, but he could not stop, for to stop was to die. To stop was to die... Focus... he needed to focus...  
  
_Shadows are only traces  
of trees, and rocks, and things;  
Fear not the wisps of mem'ries  
of things that used to be._  
  
There were the words again! They came to him, pouring in his mind like the rain that falls from the grey skies back home.  
  
Home. Would he ever see it again?  
  
"Hurry, Estel! Hurry!" A voice came again, but this one was deeper, yet showed equal urgency. "Keep running, for they are fast! Do not give way! A final push to get to the river, and then we are safe!"  
  
Safe! he thought. Safe, at home, where mother and Elrond wait for me. Aware of a rumble behind him, he looked back to the bend in the road, where a hoard of black bodies gathered together, hurling knives at him, sneering, running, approaching.  
  
"Fast!"  
  
But he was running as fast as he could! He was racing, flying as an arrow that has been let out through a very tightened string! He heard buzzes in the air, flying past him, near him...  
  
"Agh! Ouch!" Drawing a hand to his shoulder, he halted, staggering in pain.  
  
"Elladan!" One of his brothers heard his cry and turned back. "He is hurt!"  
  
"I am well!" he cried, veiling his eyes but starting onward. "Go on! We are almost there!" His brothers started to run again, but they would keep closer to him, turning to glance back at him every few paces. He grimaced, as he pressed his hand to his shoulder.  
  
_If ever darkness deepens,  
and walls seem to fall on  
Do not forget to whisper!  
The light, at last, will come._  
  
He stopped and gasped for breath. Behind him he heard the cries of oncoming Orcs. The noises came faintly, although he knew that every second brought the creatures closer, and he heard the rumble of steps, the sound of foul words and curses in their own dark language that was so repulsive to his ears.  
  
'Whisper...' something in his mind told him. 'Whisper...' the voice yammered in his head, so fast and loud that he almost thought he could hear it. He felt his lips move, but he had not meant to move them; was he trembling?  
  
_Oh, fairest light, shine on me  
Until I find my way!  
Dispel the dark and shadows,  
Bring forth a new-found day._  
  
He stopped, panting. He found that he could not go on. His legs shook, and a black blur gathered in his eyes, closing his lids. The very effort of breathing became a desperate struggle, and he felt a weight press upon him, heavy, black. It fell on and on... it would crush him...   
  
"Estel!" was the last thing he heard, and then knew no more.  
  
_If the light shines on me  
Hope will find a way.  
Estel, hope and starlight  
conquer fear with faith_  
  
Elrohir's singing ended in a low, mirthless chuckle. His brother raised a brow at him.  
  
"What, do you suppose, put that into his head in the first place?"  
  
"I do not know, Elladan. But, I tell you, it was that bit of rhyme that he sang. You must have heard it, too."  
  
"I did hear it," Elladan said, as he crumbled a few leaves over a pot of boling water; or, was it Elrohir? Estel could not be sure through his half-open lids. He made an effort to move, but found that he couldn't; a strange weariness had overcome him, keeping his limbs anchored to the ground. There was also a stinging pain on his left shoulder that he could not attribute to any thing his conscious mind could remember; but, something had to have happened! He was so tired... His brothers were there, he reasoned, so things would be fine; and, he could not move, at any rate. A soothing scent was coming out of the boling pot. They must have been burning athelas, he thought, as he allowed his senses to be invigorated by the herb's healing properties. Slowly, he felt his tightened muscles relax, and he became very still as his hearing focused on the sounds around him: the constant sizzling of the fire and the bubbles in the pot, the crumbling of leaves and the stirring of a liquid, the rending of clothing, a bird chirping, his own pounding heart, murmurs... his brothers... they were speaking.  
  
"... and you know that he was but a small child when she sang that to him; no more than four or five human years, I believe."  
  
"I had never seen him so frightened before," the other spoke, and gave a low laugh. "I confess I did not know what to do."  
  
"How can you say that, Elladan? The crying, it had to be stopped! I'm sure that every living creature in the valley had a chance to hear Estel's weeping that day. To stop the crying, that was the first thing that had to be done."  
  
"I suppose you are right. But, would you not have cried if you were a babe, and had just wakened to find yourself alone in such a dark forest? Oh, I think you would have, brother," and hushed laughter followed. Estel wished to laugh, too, upon recognizing his own recollection. He must have been a mere child, for he had entirely forgotten about that incident. He remembered a bird. Yes, he had been following a bird that sang so beautifully! He must have managed to get distracted and lost and had fallen asleep, for the next thing he remembered was waking in a strange garden of dark shadows- entirely alone.  
  
"... when Gilraen sang that song for him. Do you suppose there was foresight in her choosing such words? They seemed to come today when they were most needed." Silence followed that last sentence, and Estel found himself desperately wishing for them to keep talking. The sound of their voices was reassuring.  
  
"What happened today frightened me, 'Ro. I thought we had lost him."  
  
Silence.  
  
"He is not ours to lose, brother."  
  
"I know; but, I could not-"  
  
"Do not even think about it. It did not happen; that is all we know."  
  
"Yes; but, suppose that that arrow had hit just a few inches down, or more to the right! Had it pierced a lung, or... or his heart!"  
  
"But it didn't!"  
  
"But it could have! It was so close!"  
  
"We must stop worrying about this, 'Dan. 'Tis useless! The life he will lead will throw him in the way of danger every minute of every day."  
  
Again, silence.  
  
"You are right," the voice had calmed again. "He must get used to it."  
  
"As do we."  
  
Estel felt a stirring, steps, and then something hot being rubbed against his throbbing shoulder. It was hot, and it burned...  
  
"Agh! What is that?" he cried, distressed, but ended in a smile of relief, for he had found his voice back. "What is all that talk about my life, and what is that thing you're pouring there... oh... Elladan, it burns!"  
  
"Am I glad to hear your voice, brother! Uncouth and rusty, as it is," Elrohir cried, leaning closer to him. "We thought you would sleep forever!"  
  
"And he came very close to that mark," Elladan said, as he urged him to sit back on the bed and lay his head on the pillow of leaves they had gathered for his comfort. "How do you feel, Estel?"  
  
"Burnt!" he exclaimed, "and, confused. What happened? And, how long have I slept?"  
  
"You would not wish to know," Elrohir murmured, and somehow it did not seem to be a joke.  
  
"It is past sunset."  
  
"Good," Estel heaved a deep sigh. "It sure feels like it has been longer."  
  
"Past sunset, of Isilya," Elladan explained, good-naturedly, while he raised a brow at Elrohir, who covered his mouth, perhaps to conceal a grin.  
  
"What? It cannot be possible! We had come close to the Orc camp," his voice lowered, and he grimaced as Elladan continued the ministrations to his injured shoulder. "That must have been two days ago! I could not have slept that long!" But, the odd stares he encountered in his brother's eyes told him that he had done just that. "What happened?"  
  
"The usual," Elrohir said at length, and it seemed to Estel that he was trying to seem more cheerful than what he truly felt, "in our eagerness, we came too close to their camp."  
  
"And, dearly have we payed for our weakness," Elladan said, and even though his words ended in a half-smile, Estel could detect the tightness, the note of discomfort that ran at the heart of his brother's comments, and that prompted guarded looks between themselves, and toward him. He wondered why they were acting so.  
  
"You should say, rather, that I have payed for our weakness. As I look at you, I see that you have managed to escape unscathed."  
  
A rather long and uncomfortable silence followed, in which Elladan lowered his eyes, and Elrohir turned his back at them to stare at the horizon. He bit his lip, mentally cursing himself for having chosen a seemingly unappropriate topic, and was abstracted out of his reflections by Elrohir, who muttered something to the wind, or perhaps intended only for his twin's ears, but he also caught it. 'We should not have risked him so.'  
  
"It was hardly your fault," Estel began to say, trying to shift the dark mood that had settled upon them. "I am man enough to be aware of such risks, and if I was willing to go along, then the peril must not have been so great. I did not think we were too close; and, they took the bait!"  
  
"Nevertheless," Elladan said as he pressed some bandages over the wound, "we must protect you. Your safety should have been better guarded."  
  
"How am I to learn, if you shun the opportunities for it?" It was a natural question, and it seemed to soften the mood, or at least to smooth the lines of worry over the elven brows. "At any rate, you have not answered my first question."   
  
There was that hasty, almost imperceptible exchange of glances between the elder brothers. Elladan's hold on him tightened slightly, and he cleared his throat, "And, which question may that be, young brother?"  
  
"What is it that you are pouring there. It burns!" he replied, choosing his second question instead of the first. His brothers surely noticed, for they bestowed keen glances upon him, although they spoke not against it. Whatever happened, he liked not the way they seemed to keep their guard as to be mindful of what they said in front of him. He could not recall of any other time when they had been so careful, nervous, even, at least in his presence.  
  
"Ah," Elrohir sighed, and a smile lighted his face. That twinkle of laughter that kindled his eyes when he was amused seemed irresistible; Estel knew that he should prepare, for his brother would probably tease him. "Since you are man enough to be aware of risks, I think you should be aware of what it is that Elladan is using to clean your wound. Would you guess, Estel? We should not neglect your instruction in healing, my dear grown man."  
  
"Do not jest with me! Even though my life may seem but a breath to you, I have grown, or so mother tells me, and Elrond, too."  
  
"I do not attempt to deny that," he said, waving a hand, and Estel understood that Elrohir, too, had hoped to dispel the sombre cloud. "I- we are very pleased by your progress, Estel. You are an honorable man, by all accounts, and a clever, brave hunter. You are kind, and keen, and we love you. That is why we are loath to think that any harm should come to you." Elrohir paused, and looked long at him. "I must confess that I am surprised by some of the things that call your attention of late, and that you observe and choose to remark upon. There are tricks and things we have not taught you, and yet you know them. I wonder how."  
  
"There are things you do that you do not even realize you are doing. I learn more by observing you than by what you say. Maybe," he said, a wide grin on his face, "you assumed that I would not pay attention."  
  
"Oh," Elladan interrupted, "never that! We've always known you are a clever lad. As for being a full man..."  
  
"Do not tease me!" Estel raised his arm to wave, but quickly lowered it again, wincing and drawing his hand again to his shoulder. "I have lived over a decade and a half, and that is quite a long time. I am not so small and unexperienced as you reckon me to be."  
  
"Certainly not," Elrohir hastened to add, the amused twinkle still in his eyes, "and, in the eyes of your mother's people you are a full man, both by prowess, as by age," he declared, and paused a moment to answer Estel's growing smile with one of his own. "Sometimes we tend to forget that ten and seven years is, indeed, a long time for you, even though to us it seems to have gone by as fast as the falling of leaves in yávie."  
  
"But I have lived seventeen autumns, seventeen springs, seventeen summers-"  
  
"But only sixteen winters!" Elladan whispered, and Estel could not understand why he seemed so sad. Elrohir, too, seemed to have lost his mirth. "And this autumn is not yet past."   
  
Estel opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it, for he recognized in the cadence of Elladan's voice that note of grief that rang often in it at times when he spoke of autumn, and winter, and life. Over the years, he had observed a sad flicker in his brother's eyes whenever certain subjects were touched, and through much observation and guesswork, had learnt to trace the roots of it: Elladan (and he was certain that Elrohir, too) was reminded of Gilraen's husband. At those times he had watched attentively, trying to read at least a recollection in his brother's gestures, waiting to see if the flicker in his eyes would tell him something about the man that he should call 'father.' But anything seldom happened, and Elladan would not look straight at him, and Elrohir would quickly say something to divert their mood or lift his twin's spirit. But, not now; there were no words to be said now, and this made Estel desperate. He swallowed hard, "I am aware that I have not even lived to reach half of my father's age, if what I have heard is true; but, that does not mean that I am altogether devoid of any skill! Age and ability do not go necessarily hand in hand."  
  
"That I know, Estel," Elladan said, surprisingly looking at him with keen regard, even sharpness; yet, the look was not menacing, but earnest. "You must also be aware that, if you wish to see as many winters, then we all need to be more careful. Some risks should not be taken!"  
  
"What do you speak of?" Estel asked, truly perplexed. "To kill Orcs so that the valley can be kept safe is not a risk; it is a necessity! Had I been allowed to crawl closer, we may have been able to end with the whole pack, instead of settling for a mere handful!"  
  
"And end with you in the attempt, as well? Forgive me," Elladan continued, without pausing to take breath, "but, we are never to come that close again."  
  
"Elladan!" Elrohir cried, fastening his eyes on him.  
  
"Had I been hunting with my people, we would've finished with those wretched Orcs!" Estel sneered, but the sudden heat that came to his cheeks, and the astonished looks of his brothers, were enough to warn him that he had said something wrong. "My mother's people, that is," he corrected, haltingly, and unable to meet their stares. A stinging awkwardness surrounded them, and for more than a moment, no words were said.   
  
"Maybe you will, when you hunt with them," Elladan said, at length, "but, not when you hunt with us."  
  
There was something in the way those words were uttered that made Estel look up. Elrohir had turned away, busying himself with their gear and some utensils, while Elladan was biting his lip without betraying any other emotion than the slight shake of his hands as he bandaged his shoulder. Upon looking closer, however, Estel was able to distinguish that flicker again, that something that dimmed the light in his brother's grey eyes. How he wished for Elrohir to say something now, and make things right as he always did! But, he had walked away, and had left him with a very bad mess to undo, and a sense of disturbance and concern that settled upon his heart, although he could not identify what it was. Had his brother been angered or, at least, very badly annoyed or provoked, he would have surely felt better. But, he could read nothing else in Elladan's mood, but sadness. He swallowed hard again, and contented himself to remain silent as Elladan finished to tend to his injured shoulder.   
  
"Rest," he said at length, in a very neutral tone, or so Estel thought, "while Elrohir and I see to our meal. You must be hungry."  
  
Yes, he was hungry, as his growling stomach had been trying to tell him for a long while. Had he only listened to the warnings his own body had sent, perhaps he could have avoided to put himself into that scrape. It hurt him so, to have drawn his brothers into matters that they clearly disliked to discuss, or be reminded of! It hurt him, even more than any orc arrow could; but, what could he do to make things better? He only nodded, and closed his eyes, hoping that, when he next opened them, his brothers would be cheerful again. And, a proper meal would not hurt, either. A bird began to chirp some tunes, and he heard the call of an owl before a light, uneasy slumber overtook him.


	2. Stars, Light and Hope

2. Stars, Light and Hope 

"You better open your eyes, lest you want us to finish our meal without you," Estel heard a voice over his head. "Or mayhap you are not hungry?"  
  
He opened his eyes at once, although it was a few moments before he could focus his gaze to realize that it was Elrohir speaking, holding a cup in his hands. "I am hungry, all right," he said as he attempted to sit, careful to avoid any kind of maneuvers that would further injure his arm. He cast an appraising stare at his brother, trying to observe in the thin lines of his forehead, in the set of his jaw, in the tilt of his head, in the intensity of the stare, something, anything that would tell him whether his mood (and that of Elladan) had altered, or whether he had angered him. Elrohir's face was the portrait of neutrality, although he distinguished a remnant of his good-natured self back in the light yet caring tone of his teasing. Taking the proferred cup, he drank the content eagerly, for he thought miruvor was uncomonly refreshing, while Elrohir walked back toward Elladan, who sat a few paces away, tending to their meal that cooked slowly in the fire. He followed intently with his own eyes, and was able to catch a smile from Elladan.   
  
A few minutes later, both brothers were sitting next to him, enjoying a small feast after the manner of hunters: delicious miruvor to renew strength and increase vigor; lembas, to satisfy hunger and prepare the body for long journeys; and venison, caught surely to sate his appetite. They all ate in silence at first, and even though Estel would have liked to think that it was hunger that made it necessary to eat first and speak later, he sensed an awkwardness, an air of caution that had never existed between them.   
  
"Do not eat so fast," Elladan said. "You have not had a solid bite in over two days; be careful with that." Estel sighed in relief, and nodded in acknowledgement; yet that was the end of the talk, and the silence that ensued afterwards became as deep as the night that surrounded them.   
  
At length, and unable to bear the crickets' chirping any longer, Estel blurted out a raspy 'I'm sorry,' amid a mouthful of meat. Both brothers ceased eating to look at him. Feeling the flush creep up his cheeks again, he managed to swallow and utter a proper apology. "I am sorry. I had not realized- I meant it not to sound like it did."  
  
"We know," Elladan said. There was something in his quiet tone that made Estel's eyes shoot up, "and you are old enough to feel that way." Estel opened his mouth to say something in reply, but found that he couldn't, for he did feel different, and he did have questions that had never met with proper answers. And yet, he had not consciously realized how deeply were those feelings ingrained in his heart, not until he voiced them aloud, questioning who he was and the place he occupied amid his brethren. His own words had surprised him, his own boldness in questioning his brothers's judgement, his own bravery in putting himself forward, his own longing to find more about those who should be called his kin, all which seemed to deny what his brothers and father had done for him during all those years of dwelling in Imladris. Those feelings frightened him, and he knew not why. Somehow, he sensed that something was changing in himself, or within them, and he was loath to face whatever it could be. In spite of everything he wanted to know, he also wanted things to remain as they were.  
  
They continued to eat silently, almost ceremoniously. Elrohir poured him another cup of miruvor, and he was glad of that more because it provided an interaction with his brothers, rather than only hoping to satisfy his thirst. From time to time, he would catch stray looks from either of them, and then a sad smile, or the raise of a brow. He could not bear it without feeling deppressed, sad, and angry, and he would know why. But, how better to ask?  
  
"Those orcs were sure getting close, don't you think?" he asked in a tone of deliberate nonchalance, "close to the valley, I mean. It had been such a long while since we last encountered a pack so far from the edge of the mountains. And such a large pack, at that. Although," he said, putting up an air of incredulity, "I fancy that something in particular must have brought them here. Why else risk the wrath of the Elves, who are the masters of Imladris? It troubles me that these orcs seem to be acquiring more wisdom." He drank a sip from his cup, looking over the rim to gather their reactions to his comment. Elrohir shot Elladan a hasty, eager glance, but the latter seemed to all appearances unperturbed; although, Estel fancied, a slight frown streaked his brow.  
  
"I understand your concern," Elladan said, "for we have felt it as well. These orcs were no common orcs. And, yes," he curled his upper lip, "they are getting wiser. Did you notice how they gave the alarm when they were made aware of our presence?"  
  
"Aye, I did," Estel declared, and frowned, for the memories of the escape were coming back vividly, and one thing that stood out among the rest was the way those orcs seemed so completely organized, cunning, even, which was uncommon in creatures of that sort. "I must admit to have been frightened at some of their moves. The tall one, with the great bow... that captain had such perfect aim. No matter how I ducked, his arrows would reach me. He grazed my body more than thrice."  
  
"What troubles me most, however," Elrohir said, "was the fact that they seemed unusually wary of their surroundings. These creatures are not accustomed to stealth, and I would even venture to say that they are incapable of it, had they not surprised me like they did that day." He looked at them in turn, before he continued, "Had it not been for the heavy and unmistakable inprint of their foul feet, there really was not much to alert us of their passing. Enough for us to realize, but the forest seemed almost completely undisturbed;   
not that it would've availed them much, but it was an improvement in their ways, by all means."  
  
"Maybe they are learning that brute force is not everything there is to a warrior," Estel said. Elrohir chuckled at that, but Elladan gave out only a smile.  
  
"Either that," he said, allowng himself to be amused for a moment, "or they are learning from our ways, which only means that they have observed us. Which means-"  
  
"Which means that we should be wary," Elrohir interrupted, stressing his words with firm gestures.  
  
"But, why? What use could they find, in coming so close to the valley?" Estel asked, dropping the mask of ingenuity and looking for a sensible answer. "Large though their force may have been, it would have availed nothing compared to Elrond's power, and the protection and security of the Elves. I do not see why they would risk an incursion so far from their strongholds and so near to ours. It makes no sense."  
  
"Maybe it would," Elladan turned at him, meeting his eyes with an intensity that spoke of earnestness, of urgency. This troubled Estel.   
  
"How so?"  
  
"Maybe their purpose was not to attack."  
  
"Then what was it?" Estel asked, now feeling very confused and troubled.  
  
"Did you notice how their camp was not a hasty contrivance? They had well-assembled tents, and they seemed to have a good supply of provisions."  
  
"Do you mean to say that they have set up a permanent camp?" he paused to consider his own words. True, the pack they had been following seemed to be more conscious of their surroundings, treading with more ease over the valley sod. At one point, Estel remembered thinking that they seemed to have awaited them, so quickly were they ready to approach and follow when they were discovered. "If they have set a permanent camp," Estel said slowly in a voice so low it seemed afraid of its own tones, "then we must assume that they wish to observe us, to keep a watch on us. Why?"  
  
"They gather news," was Elladan's low and tight reply.   
  
"What kind of news, brother?" Estel cried, unable to hide his doubts further. "And, why do we let them? The servants of the Dark One must be driven out!"  
  
"Yes, they must!" Elrohir said, "But, carefully. There is no need to risk the messengers when the message is of such great importance. Elrond needs to learn of this."  
  
"Aye, he does," Elladan sighed, "and I fear he shall not be pleased." It may have been the way he tilted his head, or how his shoulders seemed to droop, but there was something in Elladan's mood that left Estel undecided as to whether his brother meant Elrond would be displeased to hear word of the orcs, or on account of news of different nature. He felt a strange and sudden pull at his stomach.  
  
"What do you mean?" he stammered.  
  
"I mean," Elladan said, looking at him fully in the eye, "that some things are changing. None of us would truly wish for it, but that is the way things are wont to go." The flash that lighted his eyes told Estel that his brother had understood his doubts, but was somehow waiting for him to speak his mind. But, how to speak of things that remain still unclear, or not fully understood? There was knowledge he had gathered from scattered bits of talk and observation: as the years passed, his brothers became even more fearful of his safety; they became sad whenever something reminded them of his mother's husband; they very seldom talked about the ways of Men and he had learnt not to ask; his upbringing as an Elf was very rare, and very few others had been raised as such, or so he had been told. Why he? Out of it all, what seemed most strange was the way he had been trained to be the best he could be in mental faculties, physical prowess, healing abilities, hunter's skills; and yet, how wary they were to let him out of their sight. One thing only, Estel could say that he knew for certain: something in his past needed to be hidden. But, what? Why did it cause such a change now? Why was he so fearful of encountering that change? Surely his brothers knew and recognized it. Why couldn't he?  
  
"What things change?" was all he was able to ask, and veiled his eyes in frustration at his own inability to voice his concerns. "Am I changing?"  
  
"All of us are, and you most of all, little brother," Elrohir said. "But, I think it is not like your usual self to be asking such questions; especially, in light of your deliberate steering of this conversation." Estel smiled at that, and lowered his eyes. There was nothing he could do that would escape their notice. "You began speaking of orcs, and how close they were getting to the valley. Do you truly feel that there is a particular reason for them to have come this far?" Now, it was his turn to answer questions. He was not sure whether he felt equal to it; his brothers usually made him answer his own questions when there was something very important and pressing that they wished he would understand and, suddenly, he felt a dread of the things he might learn. He swallowed hard.  
  
"Aye, I do," was all he said at first. He felt their keen glances upon him, but he could not go on. At length, he bit his lip, as if to infuse himself with courage, and continued. "I have, for a long time, felt the increase of your protection of me, when it should have been otherwise. As I reach my manhood years, as my mother calls them, I feel your apprehension and her fear. I would know why, for I know 'tis not only a matter of love. As I see your distress now, and the way my comments and actions have affected you, I suspect the orcs may have something to do with it." There it was; he had done away with much of the true problem. All that was left for him to do was wait for a response.  
  
"In what way?" Elrohir insisted.  
  
Estel bit his lip. "In a bad way. What have I to do with them? Does it... does it relate to my father, or the way he died? Do they... do they want something from me?   
  
Both brothers shot him looks of amazement; but, where he expected distress, found a deep realization of truths that they seemed to have awaited. "I perceive now," said Elrohir at length, "that all this questioning, this putting yourself forward in deeds of bravery, this deep loathing toward orcs, this desire to seek for your kin... it has nothing to do with our feelings and views," he glanced up at Elrohir, who had lowered his eyes. "There are things deeply ingrained in your heart that you understand not now, but someday will. Then, everything will make sense and you will realize your true purpose."  
  
"Do I even have one?" he muttered quietly to himself.  
  
"Do not doubt it for a minute!" cried Elladan. "Not a creature is born without a mission to fulfill. Even those who err or stray in their own paths know not but that they fulfill some higher purpose through their wandering. And you, my dear brother," he said as he laid a hand on Estel's shoulder, "can be certain that there is a purpose for you."  
  
"Is that why you take such pains to train me, or why you shelter me from the orcs, or why Elrond has taken me, out of so many men, into his own house? For I know that there are many others like myself, even more worthy than I am; and I also know that sometimes mother gazes upon Eriador and I see longing in her eyes, but yet she chooses to remain here. Why?  
  
"Have we done aught to offend her, Estel? Doyou wish she had left while you were still a child? Are you sorry to have been brought up thus, as an Elf, surrounded by many who love and care for you?" Elrohir asked.  
  
"No!" he was quick to add, "And I am thankful, for I am aware of the many things that have been done in my behalf. But I wonder... I must wonder! What is it about my past that must be so carefully kept hidden? Why does Gilraen have to run away from it? Why must I? Will it not reach me, ere the end, and finish with me?" When he was done, he was able to feel his heart racing wildly inside his chest, and raised his free hand to it in an attempt to stop it from bursting out. The twins looked at him in a way that he had never seen; he thought they were startled, caught at unawares, as it were. He had been startled, too, of his own outburst and the way his words had come, sudden and unrestrained. But, as his eyes fixed upon them, he saw that pain again, that sadness, for Elrohir's breath had caught on his throat, and Elladan had closed his eyes.   
  
"The knowledge of your past," Elrohir began slowly, as if it took a great effort to craft the words, "is something that must yet be kept from you, until a moment when those who are wise see fit to reveal it. Don't question their wisdom," he said as he raised an arm to chide Estel's unuttered protest, "for they know what is best, brother. Reluctantly have we agreed to such demands, and sadly now, for we see that this matter grieves you immensely, as it well should when you still remain in the dark. One day, I trust, you will understand why this was done so, and be grateful for it."  
  
"But that is hardly enough, Elrohir! Why is it that I know naught about my kin, about my father? I know naught of him, and sometimes I feel like I know my mother very little, and you two... " his head drooped and his voice sank to a mere whisper, "you two have been acting so strange, looking earnest and hasty, and speaking to yourselves behind my back, exchanging looks of concern and worry and talking guardedly about the life I will lead... and yet you tell me nothing of it."  
  
"Aye," Elladan said, as the spark in his eyes told Estel that he recalled the words he had said earlier, "I see whence all of this comes. I had not expected you would hear that."  
  
"But I did!" he said determinedly as he leaned forward. By now, all thought of food had been forgotten and he was completely lost in his conversation with his brothers, bent in finding answers, focused in taking in their faces to preserve as pictures in his mind, as memories of a moment that seemed to slip away to never return. "I heard, and I have also seen how you worry over me. What am I? Am I so very bad, is my past so terrible that I must live in secrecy? Am I doomed to fulfill some dark mission?"  
  
"Of course not!" Elrohir leaned closer to him. "You are not terrible, you are a wonder! You are called Estel; you are our hope." He paused and hesitated, "So many doubts you have, and so many questions! I would not, nor could I answer all of them, thus laying your fears to rest, but know this: whatever doubts may assail you, be sure that you are not bad, and know that we love you. If ever we seem to act in odd ways, it is because there are things we are yet unprepared, or uncertain about how to handle. You have grown fast, and it seems to have been so very quickly! We knew that someday you would have these questions, you would feel these yearnings; but never expected it would be this soon."  
  
"Is that why you were upset when I said I wish I were hunting with my moter's kin?" he said, lowering his eyes slightly, "I meant not to imply that I resented you... it is the opposite and you know it! I am just so afraid that things might change in a way that cannot be turned back. You are my brothers, and I want you to remain thus- always!"   
  
"Even if all things changed in this world, the one thing that would remain the same would be that!" Elladan said, eagerness shaping his voice, but also a note of tenderness that Estel had longed to hear. He gazed up at his brother to find eyes as bright as the moon and the stars in the night sky. "For we are brothers, and we will always be, no matter what. As you have felt it, so have we, for things are changing, and they will change even more so between us. You are growing, and with every year not only does your body change, but also your mind, and more truths are opened unto you, more windows of opportunity and of chance. I hope we have been able to train you well and teach you to discern correctly so that you do not run into needless risks due to your eagerness and the exhuberance of youth. A day will come when you will understand what has been kept from you and, until that day, I hope you will be able to trust us as you have done before. 'Tis a hard demand, I know, and a hard price for you to pay; and from now on we will have to earn this trust, more than ever. But, we will, for you are our brother! Is that not what brothers are for, to stand up for each other, at all times?"  
  
"At all times," Estel said in time with Elrohir, and they both chuckled. It had always amused Estel to see how much he had picked up of his brothers's mannerisms and gestures. As he grew to realize more about himself, he thought about the spectacle that would be to behold a Man who acted like an Elf. That set him apart even more from those he should call his kin. "Will I ever have to return to my peo- my mother's people?" he asked, surprised by the turn of his thoughts.  
  
"It is right to call them your people, for that is what they are," Elladan said as he leaned back, propping himself on his arm. "I am sorry for reacting so sternly before, for appearing to be so deeply offended. They are your kin, and I know it. They are also our kin, from afar," and Estel's eyes widened as he considered that new bit of information that his brother had chosen to reveal. "I love them, also, as I would have you do, for they are fair, and brave, and worthy. Only that your words troubled me so!" a slight smile played on the corners of his lips, "For a moment I thought that you would wander out of reach and away from us, for good!" There was that odd flicker in his eyes again, and Estel thought that this time, it was not his father who had caused it, but himself.  
  
"I may wander someday, but I will not stray too far."  
  
"Will you trust us, then," Elrohir asked, "although you must walk blindly still, if only for a little while?"  
  
"I will trust you," Estel said, "but I fear for the future. I do not trust... I do not trust myself."  
  
"Why?" both Elladan and Elrohir turned concerned faces over their little brother; too concerned, Estel thought, and for a moment regretted that he had been so candid.  
  
"I feel your love, and my mother's, and Elrond's. But, why do I feel that something comes? Why do I look to the past and only see shadows and remember sadness, and when I look to the future I feel apprehension and unrest? I do not know who I am. I am not an Elf, but am I a Man? I do not belong to Imladris, but where do I belong? You have spoken of missions, and of my leading a life. Will I recognize what it is once I find it? How do I know I am doing what is right and what I should do? Will I find my purpose, ever? "  
  
"Aye, Estel, do not be too eager to know of things that you are not yet ready to understand," Elrohir said, and there was a tinge of sadness behind his words.  
  
"But that is the heart of it!" Estel cried, clenching his fist so tightly that it hurt. "Why are all those truths kept from me? Is it because, by some chance of doom, there is something wrong with me and you wish to keep me from it, to make me right?" By the end of the last sentence, Estel was breathing deep and he felt how his head throbbed with doubts and pain. But, he had to look up in astonishment upon hearing Elladan chuckle. He glared at his brother, and that made Elrohir chuckle, too. "What amuses you so?" he asked.  
  
"Naught, but that you have carried with you unnecessary fears, brother!" cried Elladan, suddenly becoming serious again. "I am sorry that you have suffered so, and in silence. We must ask you again to trust us, and Elrond's wisdom in this matter. There is nothing wrong or bad within you. Whatever we become, in the end, is our own making, and our own blame cannot be cast upon fate so easily when these things are concerned," he paused and smiled, "but, you are good, Estel, and clever and strong. Look to the future with hope, as your name tells you, for great things await if you keep true."  
  
"I will," he said, smiling broadly. For once, all the turmoil in his heart had been stilled; all the questions, fears and anxieties did not bother him, if only for a moment. Even the throbbing wound seemed to have been completely healed, so great was the peace and happiness he had found through his brothers's reassurance. "If you tell me to wait, then I shall wait, and trust to what you have taught me to guide me as I go along. I will do my best."  
  
"We know you will," Elrohir said, as he handed him another wafer of lembas. "But, in the meantime, we must feed you and keep you a healthy fellow; otherwise all this training and waiting will not do much good, will it?"  
  
"Sure not!" Estel said as he stretched his hand forward to grab the wafer. "And I am so terribly hungry!"  
  
The echo of the brothers's laughter rang long into the deep night before it faded under the owl's cries and the cricket's chirping. Estel laughed, too, but deep inside he recognized a feeling of nostalgia that surprised him, and he knew not whence it came. In his mind's eye, he could see himself, years from now, wishing that this moment would come back, where he again felt quiet, loved, where he could know that his footsteps where taking him where he was supposed to go. He saw himself feeling uncertain, empty, and afraid, with a grave charge and a burden upon him. At that moment, a star shone to the West, and as he watched its faint beams grow brighter and conquer the darkness around them, he knew that everything would be well. A blink later, he was not standing in the wild, but was back on a glade in a forest, eating and conversing quietly with his brothers. As he looked at their ageless faces, and as he lost himself in their bright eyes, he understood that they also knew everything would be well. He took another sip of miruvor, and smiled. Maybe this moment was something he needed to treasure to recall in later years when he felt uncertain again, and unsure of which path to follow. Lifting his eyes heavenward unto the West, he knew not why, his mind hastily formed words he recognized... a plea for light when the darkness came:  
  
_If the light shines on me  
Hope will find a way.  
Estel, hope and starlight  
conquer fear with faith_


End file.
